Vowel Sounds
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: One shots, each chapter title beginning with a vowel.
1. Authors Note

* * *

Ok, so I have been commissioned AGAIN to write ANOTHER one shot series, I can hear you all groan, but I love doing them so as long as no one begs me to stop, I wont! 

Aly commissioned this one (so you can blame her, ha ha!); it will have 5 (or 6) chapters, each chapter name starting with a vowel, hence the title. 

The first one is a little rude, sorry, I kinda got carried away, the title is addiction though so who can blame me.

I hope you enjoy, and please tell me to stop if you are getting bored!

V!

xox


	2. Addiction

Addiction

* * *

She's pretty sure that she is addicted, addicted to him, addicted to the way he makes her feel, and not the "I can give up whenever I want" kind of addiction, the kind of addiction that makes her crazy with need. She knows she shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting him take her hard and fast in her office, she shouldn't be driving him to the edge of insanity in the elevators, but she can't stop, can't stop acting like a teenager who has no control over her hormones. She's also pretty sure that she is going to hell, nothing that makes her moan so much, makes her never want to leave bed, nothing this _good_ can be sinless. 

He tell himself he is only here because he needs to hand her a file, nothing more, he is definitely not here because he wants to lick every inch of her body, and definitely not because he wants to hear her…stop it, he chastises himself as the door is wrenched open. He barely makes it through the door before he's slammed back against it and she is against him, all he's aware of is kisses and her hips pushing into his and _need_. He's almost certain their clothes are getting ruined, because she's too desperate to worry about something as meaningless as clothes when thinking about skin against skin and he is too caught up with her to be of any help discarding the items.

Looking back, Jen wont remember how they end up on the floor of her study, naked, her wriggling beneath him. She's struggling, but he doesn't know if she's trying to get away, or trying to get closer, but he's not letting her up either way, not when those desperate, little noises keep escaping from her throat. It's far beyond basic lust or desire, watching her come apart like this, she is usually so upright and conservative in public, and he intends to make that public persona crumble under his hands. 

He leans down and kisses her, her hands are stroking down over his chest, her nails scraping lightly, making his back arch just a little. His fingers reach her nipples and he pauses, alternating feather light, almost hesitant touches with the drag of his nails. He places kisses all over her chin and neck, sucking her collarbone, then licking, slow and long back up from her shoulder to just below her ear, over and over again until her skin is hot to the touch and she is sure that she has fallen over the edge of madness. He lifts his head, and breathes his cool breath over the wet skin. He can feel the goose bumps breaking out over her skin below his lips. He moves his mouth down, past the collarbones, placing kisses all over her chest. 

He runs his tongue down her chest and around her nipple, while his fingers stroke the other and she shifts underneath him, the almost inaudible moan that escapes her lips tells him all he needs to know. She arches her hips to him, but he clamps his knees against her sides and her hands above her head, wanting to take her to the peak of her addiction, wanting to see her beg, to see her fall apart before he gives her want she wants. He strokes down her stomach, as slowly as he can, drawing out the teasing. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, white teeth digging into her soft pink lips, her eyes dark with lust and desire. His fingers are digging into her wrists, pinning them to the floor and he's certainly out of control now and he is pretty sure she is right there with him. 

She lifts her hips, desperate for the drug that only he can give her and he enters into her, the first thrust takes him deep inside, and she arches her back, a moan once again escaping from her lips, pleasure scrambling both their brains, making his fingers tighten even more around her wrists. He gives her no chance to think, to catch her breath as he thrusts in again, just as hard, just as deep and Jen doesn't know if she can take it, knowing that she wants to, that she needs to take it, because she is blinded by her addiction. He's thrusting like he wants to own her, wants to be her whole world. She wants to stay like this forever, just like this, safe from everything except her need for him, safe from everything except her addiction to him.

He slows his rhythm but drives deeper and harder, the fact that she is straining against his grip on her wrists, the fact that her lip is still caught between her teeth making him want to make this moment last forever. He slows even more, a bead of sweat rolls down her forehead and he captures it with his mouth, tasting her desire, listening to her whispering his name, pleading over and over again.

But he can't stop now; his body's taken over, desperate for release. He thrusts into her once more and feels her muscles clench around him as they both gasp in release, pleasure coursing through their bodies. 

When the buzzing in his ears subsides, and he is aware of something other than his own blood thumping around his body, he realizes that he's still pinning her beneath him, he pulls out of her, shivering at the moan as he does so. He lets her wrists go, and notices the bruises that are already starting to form from his fingers, knowing that he won't be able to look at those marks without thinking about her moaning. 

She's going to have bruises on his wrists but she doesn't care, just like a drug addict, the pleasure she feels at her fix numbs out all the bad thoughts. But she is still not completely sated, she never will be. As long as he still looks at her like he wants to devour her, as long as he still makes her crazy, as long as her body still instinctively reacts to his touch, she will want and crave him. As long as the blood still courses through her veins.

* * *

_I don't know where this smut came from! Sorry!_

_V!_

_xox_


	3. Enticement

_I think E is going to have 2 chapters because this has been in my head all day and there is also another I want to get out, so E will have 2! Sorry Aly, will do Egotistical tomorrow!_

* * *

She is Eve, holding out the apple, begging him to take a bite, offering to open his eyes to a whole new world. And he, like Adam, takes it and bites into it, every time, loving the way she licks at the juice that runs down his chin, loving the knowledge that comes with it. 

She is Cleopatra, holding her hand out, offering him the world for the taking. 

She may be a siren, enticing and calling him to his death, but he would willingly go wherever she asked. 

He looks down at her, her hair tousled by their recent love making, the flush of exertion still faint across her cheeks, legs tangled in the sheets, her arms thrown wide, a sated relaxed expression on her face as she sleeps, he can help but not care that he has been ensnared, enticed, entrapped. He closes his eyes for a second and sees her as she was before they started this marathon, standing in front of him, with that goddamn mouth of her smiling gently, hooking her index fingers at him, beckoning him to her. He shakes his head slightly trying to dispel the image. She stirs and he leans down to brush a lock of her auburn hair out of her face, hair that always gets him into trouble, hair that a few hours ago had been wrapped around his fingers as he angled her head up to kiss her neck. She stirs again and he places a gentle kiss to her temple, that was all it was meant to be but the sensation of her skin beneath his lips makes the muscles below his stomach clench. It also doesn't help that her sleepy arms wind around his neck and pull him down to her. That's when he realizes that they are kissing and _really _kissing, and nothing else in the world is quite like kissing her, he can almost feel her offering everything to him. 

He is almost surprised when she wraps a long, smooth leg around his waist, bringing his hips closer to him, almost, but not quite, because nothing that this seductress does truly surprises him anymore. A few minutes ago, he had been standing over her, watching her sleep, and now he was lying on her, her body wriggling underneath him, making it impossible for him to get back up, impossible for him to stop. But he does, he drags himself off her and stands up, raking a hand over the stubble that has formed on his face over the last…his frowns in concentration, trying to think about the last time he was outside of this room, away from her…he mind draws a blank and he looks down at her. She is frowning, breath slightly faster than normal, chest heaving; her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. It is so unfair, all her wanted to do was take a shower and now he is stuck, riveted to the spot, watching her glare at him. He groans as he throws himself back at her and a brief flash if triumph passes over her face. 

She somehow manages to end up on top of him, her hips straddling his, grinning wickedly down at him. Her lips purse into a small pout, as if contemplating what to do with him, and he tries his hardest to ignore the burn of lust that flies around his body. It doesn't work, and her grin becomes even more wicked when she feels his desire against her inner thighs. She teases him with her fingers, running them down his chest, curling them into the hair, alternating between stroking and scraping gently with her nails. She leans down slightly and kisses his mouth, her teeth nibbling on his lower lip and she worms a hand between them, its warm, smooth and _k__nowing_ and it makes him groan in to her mouth, back arching and one hand slipping up from her hip to grip the back of her neck. She pulls her mouth and her hand away, relishing in the pathetic whimper that involuntarily escapes his lips and once again she grins down at him. 

"Christ Jen." His voice is hoarse and it makes her shudder with anticipation, loving the fact that all she needs to do it bite her lip and he comes running into her arms, giving her all she needs. She sometimes feels bad about it, knowing that she is his weakness, but as soon as the guilt passes over her, it is gone, replaced by the insatiable lust that sits heavy in the pit of her stomach whenever she thinks about him. 

He flips her forcibly over, and she looks up at him, heavy lidded eyes dark with want, and it takes all of his will power not to slip into her there and then and lose himself in her. 

"Touch me Jethro." She breathes, "I want to feel you." And he is lost, its almost as if he is unable to disobey, she enchants him and he can do nothing to stop it. His hands skim down her ribs and back up, loving the way her nipples pebble under his fingers. She has enticed him, well and truly, with her wicked mouth that she knows how to use so well, and her gut-wrenching beauty that haunts him wherever he goes. He is still maintaining the internal battle, to give or not, and he has no idea why, no idea why he would fight this, so he surrenders, slips into her and watches as her eyes darken even more and her fingers grasp for any part of him she can reach. He watches as his thrusts become harder and faster, watches as she arches her neck, exposing her throat, watches as her muscles clench around him just a second before he lets himself go and he leans his head into her shoulder, drawing breaths deep into his lungs. 

When the blood stops pounding in his ears he realizes that he had just played right into her hands, her smirk of satisfaction on her beautifully flushed face a dead give away. Oh hell be damned, he doesn't care anymore, doesn't care that she is working him, every single time, that she is enticing him with those damned lips that are just asking to be crushed beneath his, doesn't care that this is exactly what she had planned, he is going to enjoy every moment of being enticed.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	4. Egotistical

_This one is for Ellie, sorry about the desk poppet! _

* * *

The egotistical bastard, how dare he? How DARE he? It wasn't just the fact that he always knew when she was thinking about him, thinking about his hands on her body, thinking about the way it felt to have him inside her; it was the self satisfied smirk that curved his mouth when he knew, even though she tried her hardest to tell him that he only _thought_ he knew. The way he did that made her want to punch the smirk off his face. But the more rational side of her knew that would never work because he would still know; still know that he invaded her every waking moment…the bastard. She craned her neck round, trying to get a better view of her back which was marked, like he had branded her, actually that is exactly what he had done, branded her like she was his property, like…cattle. Her blood boiled once again. 

* * *

_Still half asleep, sprawled out on her front, she felt something tickle her lower back. Turning her head around to try and see, he moved so his body was shielding it. _

"_What are you doing?" She asked, her sleepy voice making him jump slightly with guilt. He turned to look at her._

"_Nothing." He said, far too quickly, looking far too innocent. She tried to squirm out of his grasp but his arm over her back was far stronger than she had anticipated and relentless, so she gave up and let him do whatever he was doing to her back. _

"_Stop wriggling." He ordered and she pouted._

"_Well if you told me what you were doing I might stay still." _

"_If you knew what I was doing you wouldn't." He countered and she once again turned round to glare at him. She heard the tell-tale click of a pen lid and he cocked his head to one side as if admiring his handy work, leant down and blew a cold stream of his breath over her back. The skin immediately goose bumped and Jen sighed contentedly. He flipped her over and straddled her stomach. The grin on his face was triumphant. She narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to read his mind. His fingers brushed her thighs and she gave up, suddenly not caring what he had done. _

* * *

It was only after he left her side for a shower that she had managed to see what he'd done and oh God,she cared. She was not happy, it was not funny. _**Property of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.**_ The words stuck out like a sore thumb, as though they had been burnt onto her, so glaringly obvious against her pale skin. What made it ten times worse was he had written it in permanent marker, _permanent_, on her lower back, so she would have to get him to scrub it off and she knew that there was no way he was going to. Her hands clenched into fists as he stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, water still dripping down his surprisingly firm chest. She pushed the thought of licking the water off him to the back of her mind. She glared at him and that self satisfied smirk graced his face again. She gestured to the writing on her back.

"What the hell?" She asked. 

"Don't you like it?" He asked, pulling the towel from around his waist to dry his hair. After all these years, the sight of him still took her breath away; he did it on purpose, knowing that she couldn't resist him when he was naked. Irritation seeped back into her.

"Why didn't you just write _mine_? It would have been quicker...and easier to hide." She snapped, still trying to look at it.

"I was going to, but I thought 'property of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' was more…" He twirled his hand round, trying to think of the right word, "…Poetic." He bit his lip trying to stifle the laughter when he saw her eyes narrow at him again and dodged the pillow that flew at his head. He lunged at her, enjoying the squeak of surprise that escaped her lips and pinned her back to the bed. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You can't possibly be ready for more." She asked, laughing at the indignant look on his face.

"Oh, I'm always ready for more Jen." He answered, the bravado in his voice so irritating as he ground his hips against her. 

"So you are." She replied, his readiness evident against her stomach, and she wrapped her legs around him, payback could wait. 

He fell asleep with that smirk still on his face. She glared down at him, hoping that he could feel her stare in his sleep. Oh, she was going to enjoy bruising that vast ego if his, now she just had to think of a way to do it. She twirled the marker pen around in her fingers, trying to think of something…poetic. She grinned wickedly and uncapped the pen, oh yes; she was going to enjoy this. 

* * *

_V!_

_Xox_

_Aly and Ellie, enjoy you two! _


	5. Invigorating

_Follows on from Egotistical  
_

* * *

It was down right invigorating, the rush of adrenalin when he placed his hands on her, the feeling that she belonged to him. She wasn't nearly as irritated with the branding incident as she had let on, she secretly loved it. That was also invigorating, walking around work with _**Property of Leroy Jethro Gibbs**_ all but tattooed on her lower back. Not nearly as invigorating as knowing what he had been walking around with written somewhere on his person, and the fact that he hadn't noticed as he hurriedly pulled his clothes on this morning made it all the more hilarious. She knew he hadn't found it because he hadn't yet stormed into her office demanding she explain herself. She allowed herself a brief chuckle; oh he was going to be so mad. 

She surveyed the bullpen, noticing Gibbs squirming in his seat, looking incredibly uncomfortable for some reason. As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up at her, the lust in his eyes mirroring the lust she felt in the pit of her stomach and telling her exactly why he was sitting uncomfortably. She closed her eyes for a second, relishing in the image that flashed across her mind. Opening them, she saw Gibbs stalk out of the bullpen towards the bathrooms; a sly smirk crossed her face.

* * *

Gibbs slammed the bathroom door, resting his head against it and drawing deep breaths into his lungs. It was so distracting knowing that she still had his mark on her back, knowing that she was walking around, and had gone into a meeting with the SecNav this morning with that written on her. Down right distracting, but also completely invigorating, and one hundred per cent sexy, it made him want to throw her over her desk and make her realize just how much of her belonged to him; every single inch. He ran his hands under the tap and splashed cold water on his face. Noticing the dark purple and red mark on the side of his neck, almost on his shoulder he narrowed his eyes at the mirror, emotions bouncing between anger at the fact that she had given him a love bite, excitement that he had been walking around all morning with her mark on him and resolution; he did deserved it. The emotions he felt when he saw the love bite paled in comparison with what he saw next.

* * *

Tony and Ziva instinctively bowed their heads, trying desperately to look like they were working when they saw Gibbs storming through the bullpen. As he ran up the stairs they both shared a look of confusion and readied themselves for a storm.

* * *

The door to her office flew open; she winced slightly, deciding against demanding that he buy her a new one when she took a look at his face and the fire behind his eyes. Yep, he had found it.

"Problem?" She asked, knowing that the very fact that she was pretending that she didn't know what had gotten him so irritated would get him even more irritated. He glared at her, his mouth opening and closing in fury for a few seconds before he found his voice.

"Problem?" He was nearly shouting, "Problem? _**If Found Please Return To The Director of NCIS**_ written...down there...is slightly more than a problem." Jen tried to hide a snort of laughter, but failed, which only fueled his anger even more. "Its not funny Director." He spat out her title, making her laugh even more.

"It's a little funny Jethro." She replied. 

She had forgotten how quickly he could move, and in an instant he was pulling her to her feet, hands wrapped almost painfully around her arms, lips millimeters from hers. She made a mental note not to forget his speed again and pushed aside the familiar rush that flooded in at the touch of his hands. Her lips parted slightly and he seriously considered kissing her, until he remembered that he was meant to be angry with her. 

"Maybe I need to remind you who belongs to whom Jen." He whispered and her legs nearly gave way, if it wasn't for his strong hands holding her up, they would have. She leant forward and kissed the love bite that she had marked him with.

"Maybe you do Jethro." She replied. He closed his eyes as she kissed along his jaw, his hands tightened slightly. He moved and captured her mouth with his, doing exactly as he had threatened, reminding her who belonged to whom. He pushed her against the desk, pulling her hips towards him, letting her know exactly how he felt about the situation. The door once again burst open and they both sprung apart, Gibbs not even bothering to see who it was before he marched out of her office, walking a little awkwardly, Jen delighted in noting. 

"I am...so…sorry, Director." Cynthia managed to say, embarrassment so evident on her face, "The SecNav wants to speak to you again." She retreated hastily. Jen ran a hand through her hair, trying to still her breathing, that was invigorating she thought to herself, her lips still tingling, there nothing quiet like his hands on her, his mouth over hers, to get the blood pumping round her body. Her lips once again curled into a smile as she leant forward and picked up her phone.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_

* * *


	6. Osculate

Osculate

* * *

_Kissing is like drinking salt water, you drink and your thirst increases – Chinese Proverb._

* * *

She couldn't get enough of his kisses. The sheer action of his lips connecting with hers made her pull him closer, trying to get more, even if 2 seconds before he had been glaring at her, or she had been shouting at him. 

She loves the way he kisses her gently, pulling her face towards his, hovering for a second or two, a second too long, before covering her mouth with his, inching her lips open, running his tongue over them begging access for his tongue, a low groan reverberating through her when she grants it. 

She loves the kisses when he is furious with her, hands curling around her arms, leaving bruises and pulling her roughly to him, not even waiting for permission. Those kisses take her breath away. 

She loves the kisses he trails down her spin, murmuring _"mine" _against her skin. She loves the kiss he once placed on her wrist, his teeth gently scraping the skin and the one he had once planted on her palm.

She loves kissing him, almost as much as she loves being kissed by him, loves kissing the base of his throat and feels him swallow against her mouth, loves kissing along his jaw feeling the slight stubble brush against her skin, loves feeling his hands through her hair as she kisses down his chest, loves feeling his heartbeat through her lips when she kisses his temple as he sleeps peacefully on the floor of her study, wrapped in a blanket, in front of the fire. 

She loves the drawn out kisses, the kisses that occur when they have all the time in the world, and they can take that time re-discovering. Re-discovering that fact that he more often than not tastes of coffee, the fact that he has a weakness for her kissing his earlobe, the fact that she has a weakness for him kissing the base of her throat. The kisses shared over bourbon at the end of a long week, her legs over his, food lying forgotten on the table are some of her favorites.

She loves the frantic kisses, the ones that would leave her breathless as he barges his way into her office and pulls her from her chair, or when she finds him in his basement and kisses him like there is no tomorrow, tearing at his clothes, wishing there was nothing in between them but skin, or the ones in the elevator, praying that no one will put two and two together and realizes that she is in there with him. 

She loves the stolen kisses in corridors, quick ones, when he places his lips over hers for a second, always too short and she has to fight to let him go. The ones he places on her hair when he thinks no one is looking, the ones he places in her hair when he thinks she's asleep. 

She loves the kisses that leave her wondering if she has actually been kissed or not. The kisses that leave her pulse slightly racing, all because he has pulled her to him and murmured something against her lips, not actually touching them, but close enough that she can almost taste him, then he smiles and leaves her wondering. 

She doesn't know which kisses she loves more, but as he winds his fingers with her and brings their hands to his mouth and kisses her knuckles she knows that it doesn't matter which she loves more, she doesn't have to make her mind up, because she is going to feel all of them again, over and over.

* * *

_Sorry about this one!__ Osculate, for those of you that didn't know (and I didn't, I had to look it up after Ellie demanded that I use this word) means to kiss, or to make contact. _

_V!_

_xox_


	7. Authors Note 2

Ok people,

I was not 100 per cent happy with Untitled, and after a discussion with myself and someone else (yes, I talk to myself, so what?), I have pulled it, apologies to those who have already read it, it is going as a standalone though. Bear with me, U will be coming soon. Sorry!

V!

xox


	8. Unnamed

Unnamed

* * *

There is something unnamed between them, something that can't quiet be described, but something that they both know so well. It is there in the unspoken agreement not to let anyone else in, in the way he kisses her senseless, leaving her mind reeling, the way that she trails her hand over his as she passes, her fingers leaving tingling lines, the way he sometimes stands way too close to her, the way she doesn't feel its close enough.

Its unnerving the way he looks at her with a look that can only be described as untamed and predatory, the way his fingers linger on her face, his thumb brushes her lower lip, just before his lips cover hers, the way his hand slides down her neck and brings her face closer, kissing with an intensity that she can never quite get used to, the way that he makes her forget how to talk sometimes as he kisses her wrist, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips.

Its unreachable, the feeling, she tries to grasp it, but it always eludes her. Not that it really matters what makes her remember his hands on her for hours after he has gone, not that it really matters what makes her want him to make love to her in public, it is just something which has always been there.

Its unbelievable, he is a grown man, he shouldn't be acting like a lust fueled teenager, but the rush of power that comes with the way her pupils expand when he kisses her neck, pulls her roughly to him, the rush of power made him want her even more, if that was at all possible. He doesn't think he has ever been this exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

It was unavoidable, it crept up on them, jumping out when they least expected, making them both wish that the other had fewer obstacles surrounding them. But the obstacles had gone, and to some extent the walls, putting them both on equal ground, causing them both to be reminded how good it felt to give in completely to someone, to trust someone implicitly.

She defies anyone to be unaffected by him, by the way his eyes look as she lightly scrapes her nails down his chest, by the way he takes her completely by surprise sometimes, barreling through the elevator doors, flicking the switch and pulling her to him, by the way he simply takes her hand and kisses her knuckles when he knows no one is watching. It affected her in more ways than she cared to admit.

He is uncertain sometimes. Uncertain about his feelings, he knows exactly what those feelings are, but he is uncertain that he should be feeling them, should he be wanting to break her façade? Should he be wanting to feel her come apart under him? Should he be wanting to throw her over her desk, hell be damned anyone who hears? Should he be wanting to rip out the throats of the men that look at her even though he looks at her the same way?

His emotions were uncontained around her. Sometimes it made him feel helpless, like he wanted to run, far away from her and her beguiling eyes, her little hands which found their way into his shirts, ran their way over his chest, her lips which kissed his temples when he was asleep, or at least pretending to be. But most of the time he knew he wouldn't run, not anymore, not when she showed unconditional trust in him, and dare he say it, dare he hope it, unconditional love.

They're unbreakable, the bonds that tie them together, that make them a formidable team, that make their appetites insatiable when it comes to the hunger in both of them, the bonds that make them both unable to leave the other, those bonds are unbreakable, even if they weren't letting their emotions rule them, they would still be there, under the surface, waiting to once again pull them towards each other and make their feelings rule their heads.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	9. Yesterday

Yesterday

* * *

Yesterday changed everything. It shook the very foundations of what I held to be true. I hadn't quite worked out if it was a change for the better or a change for the worse. I had been here before, with him, but time changes everything and I now have to work out if I should hold on to this, hold on tight with both hands, or let it sift through my hands like sand.

I had thought that I knew how I felt about him; I thought I knew how he felt about me. But I was completely unprepared for what happened yesterday. I can't even blame it on alcohol, because I hadn't had a drop, although, I am not sure that I would blame alcohol even if I was drunk. It was bound to happen; it was just a question of when.

* * *

_Like most of their arguments, she has no idea how this one started, or what the hell they were arguing about. All she knew is that they were both tired, strung out from too many consecutive hours working in too short a space of time. __So when he snapped at her, his voice raw with exhaustion, she shouted back before she could stop herself. Neither of them had ever been good at backing down from a challenge, from a fight or from each other and its one thing they haven't grown out of._

_They were in each other's personal space, voices raised and she hoped that Noemi had gone home because she knew whatever she was saying wasn't pretty, and definitely wasn't ladylike. They know each other too well; know the secret raw places, the right buttons to push, the best way to hurt, and the old wounds that have never really healed. She knew she had finally gone too far when her back hit the wall and several stone of angry Gibbs pushed her roughly against it, pressing her between the cold plaster and his hot, furious body_

_"Jen..."_

_He left the warning statement hanging, his anger rolling off him in waves. She was frozen to the spot, the anger in his voice chaining her to the wall but as usual, she had a biting retort._

"_You may scare DiNozzo and McGee…but you don't scare me Jethro." _

_Fortunately, he silenced her, before she __could cause him anymore trouble, by gripping her chin and bringing his mouth down hard over hers. __Anger and frustration from the argument still hummed through his veins, fueling his lust as his hands ripped open her blouse. Neither of them had any regard for their clothes as they tore at each other, years of pent up sexual tension releasing itself in a flurry of emotions. _

_The edge of the step dug into her back as he all but threw her down on the stairs and covered her once again with his body. She ran her hands through his hair and angled his head to gain better access, access to his mouth which she had missed so much, the taste of coffee and bourbon lingered in the recesses and she pulled him closer still, the groan that reverberated through his chest only serving to encourage her. _

_His hands fumbled with her pants and for a second, she bit back a bubble of hysterical laughter which threatened to surface, he was always so in control and the one time he wasn't, was when he is pinning her to her stairs, his breath hot on her neck, his obvious desire hard against her thigh. When his hand found its way to its target, she gasped, his fingers were cold against the sensitive skin of her thighs, and she arched against him as he slipped them into her, her nails digging into his shoulders. _

_She groaned as his hands left her, but smirked as she saw he was undoing his pants and pushing them down his hips. She wrapped her legs round his waist, trusting him to keep her on the stairs and let out a moan as he lowered himself onto her. _

_He tried to keep his eyes open, wanted to watch the way their bodies moved together, wanting to see if it was as good as he remembered, but he couldn't and instead he concentrated on the harsh sound of their breathing, the feel of her skin under his hands and his lips, the feel of her body clenching around him and the breathy sound of his name on her lips. _

_As he followed her into release then comfortable numbness she remembered that it hadn't been this way between them for years, but it's the most honest they've been with each other for a long time, and she can't help but thank whatever god is listening that they are both so argumentative and stubborn._

* * *

I wake up and my head is pounding, and I have no idea how we made it into bed. I sense his presence behind me and for a second I am confused by it, then I remember, I remember yesterday, I remember the shouting, Gibbs pushing me against the wall then the stairs, his hands on me, his mouth covering mine. I silently turn over and l study his sleeping form. His brow is slightly furrowed, because he never truly relaxes, even in sleep. I run my finger over his forehead gently, hoping to smooth it out and am pleased when it relaxes for a second and the slight frown is replaced by a very small smile. He stirs and I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep, putting off the inevitable for a little longer, coming to the conclusion that this is something that I need to hold onto, that I can't let this go, but I have no idea what to say. His hand touches my face lightly, brushing my hair from my eyes and I hear him sigh. He turns over, away from me and my hand reaches his wrist just as he is trying to silently disentangle himself from my sheets.

"Don't leave." I whisper, my voice hoarse from sleep and heavy breathing, hoping with everything that I am that he will stay. He looks down at me, and I will him to see that I want him to stay, forever.

"Ok." He replies simply, slipping back into bed next to me and pulling me to him. Yesterday may have been the best day of my life so far, but we have got tomorrow, and the next day, and the next to prove that theory wrong.

* * *

_That's it, tis over now._

_V!  
xox_


End file.
